


Lucky Number Seven

by dogslut



Series: Getting Lucky (Or, How Bucky Got Addicted to Knots) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Animal Genitalia, Bestiality, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Butt Plugs, Come Inflation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Gang Rape, Gangbang, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra (Marvel), Implied Double Penetration, Knotting, M/M, Minor Feminization, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Prostate Massage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teratophilia, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, but it's mild i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogslut/pseuds/dogslut
Summary: The Winter Soldier gets raped by a werewolf. That's it, that's the plot.





	Lucky Number Seven

The asset should have known that it was going to be an unlucky mission.

There was a whispers-only Hydra tradition of loading the asset up with spunk before a mission for luck. The more loads they plugged up inside him, the better he would perform. His record was twenty-one. Today, a cool spring day in the mountains of Eastern Europe, he has taken five. On the way to the armory a lieutenant orders him into a side room and gives him the code words to drop his pants and present himself. These are not closely-guarded words like the launch code or the one that makes him collapse. He is fair game when not on a mission and his recreational codes get passed out like drinks at a party.

The man doesn’t waste time checking to see if the asset is prepared for use, or even with applying lubricant to himself. The asset would have liked such considerations but what the asset likes and doesn’t like are immaterial. He braces himself against the desk and breathes steadily while he’s fucked. The man is not large enough to truly satisfy him, but at least he has enough girth to give a pleasant stretch. The asset likes them thick. He knows better than to admit this for fear of having his limits tested and broken.

It’s over quickly. He’s barely had a chance to get his own erection but that’s just as well. He’s already going to be four minutes late to the rideout. He slides the plug back into his hole and does not meet the lieutenant's eyes as he leaves.

His handler is displeased with his tardiness, but the asset is honest about what made him late. He will be punished for it later all the same.

“What’s your count?” a gun handler asks him quietly.

“Six,” the asset grunts.

The agent grimaces. “Even numbers are unlucky. Pity the ride’s too rough or we’d fix that for you.”

The other men leer. The asset ignores them. Just like he ignores the slick reservoir of semen inside him and the neverending pressure of the plug that keeps it there. He’s reviewing his mission briefing in his head. The kill order is unusual: his masters want it to look like a bear attack, as the target has been tracked to a remote cabin in the woods. He will have to use the arm to simulate claw marks. But he will make it work. No one crosses Hydra and lives.

 

**

 

This is a solo mission. All throughout the entire five-kilometer hike to the target, the asset can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Though he’s on high alert he chalks it up to forest creatures. Of course he’s being watched. The woods have a thousand eyes. None but his are a threat.

He locates the cabin near dusk, climbs a tree for a good vantage point, and settles in to wait. And he waits. And he waits. The sun begins to set and no lights appear in the windows. The target does not appear from the woods nor from the cabin. The asset scowls to himself. Was their intelligence wrong? He descends from the tree, readies his rifle, and creeps towards the cabin.

Everything is still. There are insects and birds in the distance but not nearby. Always a bad sign. Circling around, he finds the front of the cabin an alarming sight: one window is shattered and the front door is hanging off a single hinge. What’s left of the door, anyway. It’s broken worse than the window.

The wind changes and even through his mask the asset smells death. That’s his domain, then. He makes his way to the cabin and steps inside.

The remains of the door have deep gouges in them, as do the floors and walls. The interior looks like a storm blew through: furniture upended and torn apart, picture frames fallen, glass and debris on the floor. And blood. Blood spray on the walls. On the floor. Smears that tell a story of someone badly injured trying to crawl to safety. Under the blood and early rot comes an animal stench, a predator musk. And then, at last, the asset finds his target. What’s left of his target, anyway. He’s even worse off than the door.

What a spectacular irony that he was sent in to fake a bear mauling only to have a real bear beat him to it.

The asset takes in the half-eaten, dismembered body’s details with the same dispassion he’d have for a grocery list. He spends a moment locating the stolen file that marked this man for death and heads for the door.

A soft rushing sound stops him in the doorway. Breathing. Something  _ large _ breathing. He readies his gun again and steps out into the night.

It’s right against the wall around the corner to his right. At first he assumes it’s the bear, back for the rest of its meal. Then it stands up. Its shoulders are much too broad and its hind legs are too long. Everything he can see about its proportions are wrong. The asset sights his gun but--something about that hulking form in the shadows activates a primal, animal fear he never realized he still had inside.

Its head comes up. A sharp whuffling sound tells him it’s scenting the air. Scenting him. And then it advances.

He is afraid. The asset fears no man save his handler, no pain save punishment, no power save Hydra’s might, and he is afraid of this thing. He takes a step back as it takes a step forward, and another, another. It growls, and it sounds like distant thunder--and his gun reports like very nearby thunder in return.

The thing yelps out a half-human cry and staggers back. The round hits it square in the chest, but it doesn’t fall; instead it roars, as loud as the gunshot, and charges him.

Fuck, it’s fast. The sheer shock of the thing still being alive leaves the asset flat-footed for just enough seconds for the thing to barrel into him and send him flying across the clearing. He rolls as he lands and comes back up on his feet, gun rising to aim again--it’s a great black shape in the dark looming over him. He pulls the trigger wildly and fuck, oh fuck, it just goes click. His metal hand must have crushed the barrel. Fuck it. A rifle doubles as a bludgeon in emergencies, and this is a Goddamn emergency.

The first blow is solid. The creature snarls like a dog pulled from a nightmare. He whips the gun back and back up again only to find it stopped dead by savage snapping jaws. A jerk of its head rips the rifle from his grip-- _ his _ grip, that can break a normal person’s bones. He has just enough time to bring the arm up to guard his face before the not-bear swats him with its forepaws. It batters him to one side and then the other. He kicks out, hits what might be its hip, and growls in pain when slavering jaws clamp down on his human arm and shake him like a ragdoll. 

Pinned on his left side, he can’t use the weapon-arm at all, so when the creature’s teeth close around his neck he can’t simply reach up and rip it off like he wants to do. It slams him down onto his stomach with the asset’s neck still in its mouth. It shakes him again while shifting around to stand over him. His brain rattles and stomach roils...but the pain, however bright, is inconsequential.

The moment he tries to push himself up, it crushes him back down to the ground. Its strength is insane. A bear would have been a reasonable challenge but this thing--whatever it is--must be as strong as a gorilla. And it wants him to stay still.

The asset stays still.

So does the gorilla-bear-thing, for a moment. It just holds him still while growling in a menacing contrabass. The haze of combat starts to clear and the animal fear the asset felt before comes back. He holds his breath and waits to feel its teeth crush his neck. A second later he’s choking on that very held breath when there’s a tug at his belt. Then it’s a stomach-lurching backwards jerk and a rip, and suddenly cool night air prickles across the bared skin of his ass and thighs. In the very back of his head it occurs to him that this is the act of a more intelligent animal than expected.

By some miracle the creature lets go of his neck. Now both paws hold him down by the shoulder and back. Puffs of hot air travel down his spine. His stomach clenches when its breath reaches bare skin. A cold, wet nose pressing, burrowing, into his ass crack makes him jump. Does it smell the mess inside him? The scents of half a dozen men held inside him by silicon?

The creature’s grip on him moves to a hip and a thigh, and it hoists his lower half into the air like he weighs nothing. He grunts and rolls a shoulder under himself to make sure his neck doesn’t break as he’s upended and then bent in half. Something warm, wet and rough slithers across his thighs--oh, that’s its tongue. It seems more sure now that it’s the scent of semen that’s grabbed the beast’s attention. It’s unpleasant but he can bear this more easily than if it was trying to eat him.

Gazing up, his eyes finally adjust enough to get a good look at the thing. Its head isn’t much like a bear at all--more like a wolf. A wolf gone wrong, or maybe crossed with an ape. Its triangular ears stand forward. There’s something almost human about its yellow eyes. He struggles for a word to describe the thing but he’s never been briefed on this form of wildlife, if indeed it’s a natural being at all. He watches with a dissociated sort of fascination as the gorilla-wolf sets white, pointed teeth around the base of the plug in his ass and tugs. Their eyes meet and it growls briefly as if to say:  _ Stay still and let me. _

The asset times his breaths but he can’t help but grunt as the plug gets pulled out. Still holding his gaze, it starts licking out his now-exposed asshole, tongue dipping inside where it gapes. The asset groans and lets his head fall back with a thud. Oh God it feels good. This is the most fucked-up thing that’s ever happened to his recollection and he  _ does not _ want an animal licking his pussy but it feels  _ so fucking good _ . Granted, his memory only goes back about two weeks, but a lot’s happened in that time. But the slight roughness of the gorilla-wolf’s tongue scratches away the numbness from his puffy cunt, leaving it raw as a live wire and aching for action. He starts to squirm--the position is fucking uncomfortable--but the creature just eats him out more viciously. That doesn’t exactly inspire him to stop squirming.

After a few minutes he’s mewling, gasping and grasping at the ground. The creature lowers his hips enough that he can see what it has in store for him next: two inches of pointed, glistening cock stand proudly from a furry sheath. He’d halfway suspected but now it’s perfectly clear:

_ It’s going to rape me. _

The asset sighs. He can handle rape. It’s nothing new. As far back as he can remember (again, only two weeks, but still) he’s taken at least three cocks a day and none of their owners have ever asked if he wanted it first. Sure, they often ask things like  _ You like that, don’t you, slut? _ and  _ You want both our big dicks in your cunt? _ but the asset knows these are all rhetorical. No one in Hydra needs his permission. “No” is forbidden, and “yes” is obsolete. He is there to be used.

It’s almost a relief. It’s much easier to recover from being used than from being torn apart. Its dick looks tiny anyway. So he relaxes, watches the wolf-thing align the tip of its cock to his hole, and lets it rape him.

He almost regrets it on the very first thrust. Its cock is not, he finds out very quickly, a mere two inches. It’s eight at the very least, and every last inch of it gets slammed into his cunt all at once. He yelps, eyes wide. What’s more, there’s a thicker knob near the base that stretches him twice the width of that otherwise-narrow shaft. The beast grins at him, pulls half its length out, and slams back inside him with the force of a god damn truck.

The asset groans out loud as the creature fucks into him fast, deep and hard. The knot of thick, hard tissue enters and exits his asshole with wet plopping sounds. Every time the gorilla-wolf shoves its dick into him the knot presses against his prostate. His own prick strains and hardens. He’s getting hard from being raped by some sort of mutated animal. The shame of it burns far worse than the stretch of the knot abusing his defenseless hole.

He could swear it’s getting bigger, too. The cock pounding into his guts feels like it’s reaching deeper inside him...where he’d expect the stretch to get easier to take, it only seems to increase. The shaft is hotter than any human cock and slides wetly without any grease to lube him up. The gorilla-wolf grunts now and then. Its meat-stink breath steams in the air. The asset wails at a particularly hard thrust but it’s no deterrent to the vicious fucking he receives.

After too many minutes of these long, deep thrusts, the creature pulls out entirely and the asset gets a good look at what he’s been raped with. It’s closer to a foot long now, still pointy and shining wet, covered in a lattice of bright red veins against purple-grey. Little spurts of what he assumes is precum shoot from the tip. He supposes that’s part of where all that moisture’s coming from.

He doesn’t have long to contemplate this before the creature bowls him over onto his hands and knees. It kneels over his back and wraps a furry, trunk-like forelimb around his torso, using the other paw to grip his hip with claws sinking painfully into his skin. It humps against him with little aim. The creature’s cock stabs him in the ass and thighs several times before finally catching on his rim again, and then it slides back into his cunt in an instant. Without a moment’s hesitation it starts pounding his ass harder and faster than any human ever could. The asset moans loudly as his body is shaken back and forth, even with the gorilla-wolf holding him tight. The prostate stimulation overpowers the pain and shame. A few more thrusts rock against that sweet spot and he cums hard, as hard as the thrusts rabbiting into his cunt, hard enough to make his vision grow dim. Soon afterward he’s so overstimulated tears stream down his face but there’s no stopping this animal. It’s intent on taking its pleasure in his body and no amount of pleading will will make it let up.

It’s been a while since he cried during sex. At least the gorilla-wolf isn’t mocking him for it...it simply doesn’t care. It probably doesn’t even notice. The overstimulation passes in time and the creature is still raping him like it might die if its cock doesn’t wreck his guts enough. The knot and shaft are definitely thicker by now. The thrusting finally slows down some...only because it’s taking more and more force to fuck the knot into and out of his hole. Eventually it goes in and won’t come back out at all. So the creature pulls him close and pushes in deep and it cums and cums and cums some more while the knot grows even larger, surely the size of an orange or even a grapefruit by now. It comes to rest directly on the asset’s prostate as it inflates to these terrifying proportions and he cums again with a breathless grunt--semen literally forced out of him by sheer pressure.

At last they’re both still again. The only thing that hasn’t stopped is the constant, if smaller, shots of cum filling up his cunt. The asset winces but takes a moment to catch his breath.

The wolf-thing licks his neck in a sick parody of tenderness. He leans into it anyway. Soft touches are such a rare blessing he’ll even take it from an animal that’s actively raping him. But when he shifts his hips a few minutes later to try to get more comfortable, the creature humps and grinds against his ass again which draws ragged moans from him once more. It lasts a few minutes, and then they’re still again.

He estimates it’s half an hour that they kneel there locked together. The wolf-creature rests its forepaws on either side of the asset and blankets his back with its warm, hairy body. The pressure in his guts grows as the neverending load keeps getting dumped into him. Every so often it humps him again and this makes his cock wake back up again soon enough.

It wraps its--arms or forelegs, whichever, around him tight and rolls them over onto their sides. Semen sloshes in the asset’s belly. He’s never had this much inside before. The human loads much have been pushed up halfway through his intestines by now, he feels so bloated with it. Idly rubbing his belly and contemplating all the cum he’s holding, he’s surprised to find he can feel the creature’s cock from the outside, too.

It doesn’t hurt anymore. It feels...fucking amazing, actually. The creature is giving him deep anal stimulation, an impressive stretch, and an unbelievable load all at once, plus its fur and body heat keep the cold at bay. He winds up cumming again in the next half an hour with his fingers buried in its thick, coarse fur, while the gorilla-wolf licks his neck and cheek. If it weren’t for the gargantuan knot locked in his cunt, he could doze off right here on the forest floor.

After more than a solid hour of fucking in one form or another, he feels that knot shrink. The creature tugs its cock out of his cunt and cum gushes out of his ruined hole. He knows it’s only a fraction of what’s been pumped into his guts though. He doesn’t resist when the gorilla-wolf hoists his leg up and eats him out again until it’s cleaned all the cum off of him--both the asset’s and its own. It turns its tongue’s attention to his still-stiff cock and laps at him until he goes off one last time. There isn’t much mess but it licks that up, too. Then it pulls him close, wraps its limbs around him like a steel-muscled furry blanket, and they both fall into an exhausted sleep after all.

The asset awakens cold and alone on the forest floor. The sky is pale with pre-dawn. He locates his plug, brushes debris off it, and stuffs it back up his ass with a grunt. His ruined pants are going to make the trek back to the extraction point unpleasant. That will probably be nothing compared to trying to explain why he’s late and the state he’s in.

But if he’s lucky, he thinks to himself as he starts off into the woods, he’ll see that wolf-creature again before he gets there.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this feeds your id like it did mine. All feedback welcome. =)


End file.
